


Sometimes We Wonder

by ThegoodshipRickyl



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Butthead Merle, Established Relationship, M/M, Obnoxious Shane, Rated for Swearing & Imbibing, Shy Daryl, Tipsy Rick, background Carol/Tyreese, background Sasha/Bob, with a side of Andrea/Michonne
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-10-22
Packaged: 2018-04-27 15:34:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5054227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThegoodshipRickyl/pseuds/ThegoodshipRickyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shane has no business sticking his nose in certain places, especially Rick's mind, especially when his defenses are down due to the consumption of certain substances, and especially about his relationship with a certain reticent redneck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes We Wonder

"You're serious? You ain't even  fucked  'im yet?" Shane asked, chuckling as he brought his bottle back to his lips. "That is  _pa_ -thetic."

Rick rolled his eyes and gave his friend a good hard shove to the shoulder. " _You're_ pathetic." He pointed at Shane with his own bottle, not noticing how the end of it wavered slightly.

Shane let out a huge belch, muffling it into his fist in a vain attempt at politeness. "At least I've gotten my dick wet in the last  _year_. "

"Asshole," Rick breathed into his beer, smiling in delight when it whistled softly. He took a swig then turned back to Shane, feeling like he might go flying off his stool from the centrifugal force. Steadying himself, he pointed as best he could at Shane's face and slurred, "Daryl's different, okay? He don't. . . he doesn't. . . He's just different, 's'all."

Shane scoffed and took another handful of peanuts. He started shelling them clumsily, shoving them into his mouth without prejudice. Rick was glad for the reprieve. There wasn't anything Shane liked better than riding Rick's ass about his relationships. He'd been doing it since high school. Since Lori.

The break didn't last long, though. "Thought you  'gays' were, like, constantly in each other's assholes or whatever. Well. That's what they say, anyway," he mumbled apologetically.

Rick rolled his eyes again, exasperated. "First off, neither of us is even gay. We ain't  ' _gays_ '."

"Seem pretty gay actually..." Shane mumbled.

Rick plowed ahead. "There's a thing called 'bisexuality'." His slushy brain could barely wrap itself around the word. "Ain't the same."

"...gay to me..."

"Second of all," Rick raised his voice over Shane's and stabbed his two fingers into the air. "That is a very offensive stereotype you just cited and I will be glad to kick your ass if you feel like buttin' yourself into our sex life ever again, thank you very much." Rick finished with a finger poking into Shane's chest. He was exhausted and practically slumped over the bar, and strangers were starting to take notice of the one-man ruckus he was becoming.

There was a decent amount of people in the place  to take notice. It was a Friday night and the Hawks game was on, so people were either watching that or shooting pool at one of the handful of tables. The rest of Rick and Shane's group were nestled in the usual corner booth where they met every week.

Daryl was there. He was sandwiched in between Michonne and Merle, nearly obscured from Rick's view by Andrea, who was perched on Michonne's lap and leaning back against her, with Michonne's arms wrapped tight around her. Merle's arm was thrown across Daryl's shoulders as he carried on a conversation with Abraham, who was sitting next to him.

Daryl looked okay though. Even as he was surrounded by loud, laughing people, he looked relaxed, calm. In fact, he seemed to be joining in on some of the joking and carrying on. Rick felt himself grinning like an idiot. It wasn't long before Shane noticed too.

"Good Lord," he grumbled. "Just go be with your  _boy_ already." He then nodded his head over at Carol, who was cozied up nicely with Tyreese across the bar, the two of them watching Sasha destroy all comers at pool. "There's plenty of other  lovebirds around here for me to harass."

Rick nodded gratefully at him and hopped down from his stool, which turned out to be a bad idea, as he had to steady himself for a good few seconds before moving on again. He caught Daryl's eye and saw that he was smirking, a faint blush on his cheeks. Not from any alcohol, either. Daryl was always the designated driver.

Rick managed to stumble over to the round corner booth, never looking away from Daryl, whose blush seemed to deepen the closer Rick got. As soon as Abraham noticed him, he gestured for Merle to get up so that Rick could slide in next to Daryl. Merle obeyed but gestured for Abraham to follow, so they could get a better view of the game at the bar. Nobody blamed them. The Hawks were slaughtering the Rockets, and there was still a whole quarter to go.

Merle and Abraham weren't small men. They left a gaping space in the booth, but Rick still squeezed in next to Daryl as if an entire hockey team was trying to fit in beside him.

"Hey," Daryl murmured, nudging Rick's shoulder with his own. He was radiating heat in the cool room, and Rick soaked it up like a sleepy lizard, even as a few beers warmed him from the inside.

"Hey, babe," he replied, leaning in even closer to press a kiss to his temple. Daryl looked pointedly down at the table, avoiding Michonne's knowing gaze that eventually locked with Rick's. Rick grinned helplessly at her and she rolled her eyes at him, peeling her arm away from Andrea's body long enough to take another pull from her beer. She set it back down and reached up to ruffle Daryl's hair fondly before giving Andrea a quick poke in the ribs.

Andrea snuggled further down into Michonne, her brow furrowed in irritation. "What is it, Meesh? I was just about to fall asleep."

Michonne rubbed her arm soothingly. "I  _know_ , but I just thought maybe we should go over  _there_ instead." She pointed to the bar, where the rest of their group had migrated. Shane had ended up with Abraham and Merle and was arguing with them about basketball. Abraham was bemoaning the demolition of his home team at the hands of Atlanta as Merle sarcastically comforted him. In their booth nearby, Carol and Tyreese had receded even further into the background, and into each other. Out on the floor, Sasha was leaning against the pool table, challengers vanquished, phone in hand. She was undoubtedly texting Bob, if the happy smile on her face and the way she played with the sleeve of his borrowed army jacket were any indications.

Andrea took in the scene just as quickly as Rick, then twisted around in Michonne's lap to smile down at her wickedly. "Think our Sasha's getting a little big for her britches?"

"Think you can give her a run for her money as sloppy drunk as you are?" was Michonne's retort, which was followed by an affectionate squeeze of Andrea's hip.

"Just watch me," Andrea declared, with the icy determination in her voice that had made her such a formidable foe in the courtroom. She marched over to the pool table, weaving slightly, and Michonne watched her go with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression for Rick and Daryl.

"Don't tell her I got my money on Sasha," she said wryly, before leaving to trail after her girlfriend, shaking her head all the way.

Daryl watched her go, but Rick didn’t take his eyes off him, just waiting for Daryl to return his gaze. When he did, it was with a deep blush and a bashful expression, realizing that they were alone for the first time since they got there. Rick's hand slid under the table for Daryl's, bringing it up to rest on his thigh. Daryl just smiled and leaned back into the booth, letting out a deep breath and shooting Rick a grateful look.

"They kept buggin' me about you. Like we can't be separated for a few damn minutes."

Rick grinned and pressed another kiss against Daryl's forehead. "They're right."

Daryl scoffed. "What was you and Shane talkin' about over there? Gossipin' like old ladies?"

"Shane's a dick," was all Rick said, blushing slightly at the thought of their earlier conversation.

Daryl nodded. "So's Merle."

"Yeah?"

He nodded again before looking down at where their hands were joined, still held in Rick's lap under the table. "He was gettin' kinda embarrassing. Y’know, wanting 'intimate details' 'n all that shit." He glanced at Rick from beneath his eyelashes. "Shane pullin' that crap too?"

Daryl's tone was meant to be lighthearted, but Rick could see the undercurrent of discomfiture he was trying to hide. He sighed and pulled his hand away from Daryl's. He rested both of his own hands on the table, carefully picking at the years of cigarette smoke buildup along the edge of it.

"Daryl," he began, feeling unsteady as he ventured into territory that he would have much preferred wandering into sober, "there is nothing wrong with you. Or us."

There was a long silence after that and Rick could practically feel Daryl trying to blend in with the booth. He turned to look Daryl in the eye, but he was looking steadfastly at the seat next to him. Rick sighed again and massaged the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb, trying to come up with something to say to bring Daryl back to him.  He was lost in that thought for some time before he heard Daryl's voice. He almost missed it, being so quiet in the din of the bar.

"I'm tryin'."

Rick's head whipped around, causing his poor brain to feel like it would slosh out, but then Daryl's eyes were connected with his. "Yeah," he breathed. He shut his eyes and willed himself to make sense. "Yeah, I mean, 'course you are. I'm sorry."

It seemed to be enough, as Daryl nodded and let out a deep breath. His lips even quirked up at the corners, though he was ducking his head almost too quickly for Rick to see it. The two of them sat there a long while before it was once again Daryl who broke the silence.

"Think I should take you home."

Rick blew out a breath and nodded, a sheepish, lopsided grin playing on his lips. Soon Daryl was helping him to his feet, and they were making their rounds of goodbyes.

Sasha and Andrea were nearly too preoccupied with their heated, shot-for-shot match to notice them, but Michonne took the time to hug Rick goodbye warmly before turning to Daryl. She reached out to gently grip his arm, giving it a squeeze before leaning in to kiss him on the cheek, leaving him with an embarrassed half-smile.

They didn't even bother with Carol and Tyreese, but Abraham stopped to clap them each on the shoulder on his way to the bathroom, looking dejected and muttering something about 'crooked refs'. They didn’t find Merle and Shane until they stepped outside and saw the two of them standing in the lamplight on the sidewalk, smoking and leaning up against the brick wall. They both smirked when they saw Rick and Daryl, and even in his drunken state, Rick could tell that they had just been talking about them.

“See you boys later,” cooed Merle, blowing a sarcastic kiss at them, while Shane struggled to control his sniggering. Rick rolled his eyes and looked to Daryl, who was blushing like crazy, his lips tightened into a frown. His grip on Rick's arm tightened as they continued towards Daryl’s car.

Daryl helped him in and buckled him up while Rick sat there, groaning and lolling his head back, not sure if it was the dizziness that made him exhausted, or the exhaustion that made him dizzy. Daryl pulled out of the parking lot and Rick rolled down his window, hoping that the cool night air would help clear his head. They drove past Shane and Merle, who were making crude hand gestures and guffawing like overgrown high schoolers.

“Douchebags,” Daryl mumbled as Rick raised his middle finger in salute without looking back at them. Daryl gunned it and Rick was sucked back into his seat, his breath knocked out. He rolled the window back up when the cold air started blasting through at high speed, reaching behind him to grope around in the backseat for his jacket. He caught Daryl's eye as he retrieved it and put it on. He noticed an apprehension there, and as soon as Daryl started chewing his lip he knew for a fact that he had something to say.

"Daryl..." he started, hoping to reassure him.

"I'm fine," he interrupted firmly, flicking his eyes over to Rick. "I stopped payin'  Merle any mind about it a long time ago."

Rick studied him for a little while, then scooted closer to him on the bench seat. He brushed a few strands of hair away from Daryl's face, tucking them behind his ear. "Do you wanna give 'em somethin' to talk about on the way home?" he murmured, voice low and rumbling, lips nearly touching Daryl's neck. His other hand crept over to Daryl's knee, sliding roughly over the material of his pants.

Daryl squirmed and blushed, keeping his eyes on the road as he pushed Rick's hand away. "Quit," he grumbled. "You're too fuckin' drunk anyway."

Rick pouted, scooting back  to his side and slumping into the seat. He chewed on the nails of his rebuffed hand, thinking. "Hey, Daryl?"

"What?"

"Do you  _ever_ want to?" he asked, immediately feeling foolish as soon as the words were out, but he was determined to press on and finally get the truth. "Because, if you don't, that's alright..."

"I  want too," Daryl insisted, his voice surly and his face red as ever.

Rick grinned despite Daryl's irritation. "With me, right?" he teased. "Sometime this century?"

Daryl relented with the barest of grins, but there was still shame in his eyes. "Told you already, I'm trying."

They were nearly home, Daryl taking the car slowly through the streets of their neighborhood. It was nighttime and there were always stray dogs - and sometimes stray children - running around, so Rick let Daryl drive in peace, feeling too tired to bother him anymore anyway. Daryl pulled in to their gravel drive and shut the car off, but he didn't get out right away, twirling the keys around in his fingers as he sat there quietly.

Rick frowned and reached over to lay a hand on his forearm. The key twirling stopped and Daryl let out a deep, shaky breath. Rick gave his arm a squeeze. "Hey," he said, voice soft but insistent. "I love you, Daryl."

Rick could feel him relax in his grip, so he added, "And I need to pee real bad, so how about we take this inside?"

Daryl snorted. "Need me to help you aim?"

"Wouldn't that be nice?" Rick replied, grinning wolfishly before disengaging from Daryl and slowly dragging himself out of the car. As soon as he was out he groaned and grabbed his forehead, massaging it with one hand while the other was braced against the car, holding him up.

He let out a pathetic moan. "Where did all that light come from?"

"That's the moon," Daryl answered flatly as he came over to Rick's side to help. "Do you need a blindfold now?" he asked as they made their way painstakingly to the front door.

Rick gave him his best sleazy leer. "Well aren't you just full of good suggestions tonight?"

"Shut up," Daryl huffed as he fumbled for the correct key, a difficult task with Rick hanging on to him, his hands and lips all over him. Rick was grateful when Daryl didn't act on his typical habit of flipping on the light when they entered, though it did make it more difficult for him to locate the bathroom in the dark.

He managed, though, and when he was finished he stumbled his way into the bedroom, arriving just in time to see Daryl ducking into their walk-in closet with a bundle of clean clothes in his hands. When he emerged he had his well-worn Atlanta Falcons NFC Champs '98 T-shirt on along with a pair of navy blue boxers, but Rick didn't have time to appreciate the sight as he was falling into the bed boots and all, hearing Daryl chuckle and wriggle his way under the covers.

Eventually Rick was able to muster enough strength to remove his boots, and laboriously take off his jeans. He pushed himself upright so he could rid himself of his shirt. He was facing away from Daryl,but he could sense him watching, taking in all his newly bare skin. His suspicions were confirmed when he turned around, and he grinned mischievously as Daryl flushed and pulled the blanket all the way up to his chin. Rick couldn't resist diving under the covers and sliding right up next to him.

If Daryl had been a cat he would have been flicking his tail back and forth in annoyance. "You smell like beer."

"'m sorry," Rick mumbled into the pillow. He scooted away from Daryl a little, turning to lay on his back. 

There was a beat of silence in their quiet room. Then Daryl's voice, a demanding growl. "Git your ass back over here."

Smiling to himself, Rick scooted back over, sliding his hand up under Daryl's shirt and pulling him in for a sloppy and enthusiastic goodnight kiss. When he pulled a few inches away, Daryl smoothed back the curls on his forehead and went in for a kiss himself, this time slow and reserved.

"Love you," Daryl murmured into Rick's lips before they broke apart again. Rick ducked his head and chuckled to himself, burying his face in Daryl's hair. He gave Daryl one last kiss to his cheek, then backed off to give him a little bit of space, as much as he could stand, and promised to himself before he fell asleep to never look either forward or backward ever again.

 


End file.
